


Freaky Friday

by Squeakertons



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies)
Genre: Bodyswap, Bonding, F/M, Freakout, Friendship, Other, don'sagirl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-03-29 10:26:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeakertons/pseuds/Squeakertons
Summary: *** FIC ON HOLD - sorry for the delay***Don brings home a lot of unusual things. Bringing home the wrong thing results in him waking up in the middle of a Spanish beach holiday. With the girls. Hold on to your hat Don, it's a long way home!Written as a bit of light-hearted fun. Leave your brain at the door.





	1. DONATELLO

Donatello shifted in bed and felt himself floating up into consciousness from a deep and heavy sleep. He resisted for a while, burying himself mentally deeper into the heavy, comfortable darkness where his mind was still and his body numb. He felt like he had had a restless night, full of vivid crazy dreams and yet more problems which needed solving, always a matter of urgency. As he drifted up, closer to waking, he listened for the typical early morning sounds of the lair. He was an early riser so his brothers weren’t usually awake when he got up. Sometimes Leonardo would rise early if he was perturbed by a recent fight or issue so he could get in some additional practice. Like the guy didn’t practice enough already. If Leo was in one of those moods, then his quiet grunts and puffs could be heard as he punched and kicked his way through an imaginary battle. Sometimes Mikey could be heard muttering in his sleep as he worked his way through those crazy dreams of his, often involving some kind of flying hybrid, mythical beast through forests of edible candy on the hunt for the ultimate cheese and jellybean pizza. And Raphael, well, he ranged anywhere from a low rumbling snore to a full-on jack-hammer. 

Donny stretched out his legs and toes and turned over in bed, floating ever upwards out from the warm cocoon of sleep. He had a headache. Something tickled his face and he brushed it aside absent-mindedly. Half dozing, he lay there, waiting for full clarity and the usual sounds to float around him, thinking of all the unfinished tasks he still had yet to do. He was part way through mulling over whether he should first check on his latest experiment, or start upgrading his computer array – simple early morning tasks, nothing too complicated to be undertaken until at least one cup of coffee had been consumed – when it registered how quiet the place the was. No Mikey muttering, no Raph snoring, and no quiet rush of water from the pool in the middle of the lair. Feeling weirdly startled by this, Donny came all the way to as he lay perfectly still, trying to figure out if something was wrong.

The sound of people walking, chatting and giggling, alarmingly close, made him leap out of bed on the defensive and scan around the room looking for the intruders. He instinctively reached for his Bo staff but instead only grabbed at thin air, quickly followed by the sounds of crashing and banging as he spun around, trying to gather his bearings and find his weapons. His outstretched arms knocked into objects that shouldn’t be there, sending them crashing to the floor.

What the shell?! Heart hammering in his chest, Donny quickly scanned the room trying to gather his bearings. He could instantly tell that he wasn’t in his room anymore. Hell, he wasn’t even in the Lair and judging by the thin sunbeams bouncing off the walls he wasn’t even underground. He was in what looked like a hotel room of some kind; a double bed in the middle, twin night stands on the either side, a small couch at the foot of the bed, a wardrobe in the corner, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed and a whole lot of broken lamp, glass and magazines strewn about the floor, courtesy of his frantic twirl trying to grab at his weapon. To one side of the room there were floor to ceiling thick curtains, drawn to keep out the bright light which was spilling in from the edges. From what he could tell of his quick spin of the room, he was thankfully alone.

“ _Oooooh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh……”_

His first thought was that he had been captured, his heart still beating wildly in his chest as the adrenaline surged, images of being beaten, tortured, experimented on, interrogated. He did feel foggy brained and affected by a substance in some way. Panic and confusion clouded his mind as he instinctively crouched low and darted from one corner of the room to the next, gathering info, the layout, checking he was truly alone. What Donny couldn’t understand is that if he had been captured, why was he in such a comfortable looking room? He tried all the drawers, cupboards, wardrobe, but there wasn’t anything in there he could see as unusual; no wires, no cameras. He tentatively nudged open the ajar door in the corner to find an en-suit bathroom. Again, no wires or monitoring equipment that he could detect. He quickly made his way back into the main room and cautiously peeked around the curtain. He didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t what he saw. Squinting his eyes from the blinding sunlight, he focused on a scene of tall buildings, palm tree tops, the glistening sea. As he swept his eyes downwards, over the small balcony, he could see multiple blue shimmering pools and sunbeds. Brightly coloured parasols dotted around the poolside. There were no people down there occupying the beds but Donny saw what looked like a waiter walking around, touching up the sun beds and small plastic tables beside them. He ducked back behind the curtain before anyone could see him. Where the shell was he? What was the logic in being captured and placed…on holiday??

OK. Calm down. He’d figure this out. He stood stock still for the count of 10, calming his breathing and pulse rate, and with a clearer mind looked at the one door he hadn’t yet opened. If he really was in a hotel room, then presumably this door would be the exit. With another furtive glance around the room to check for threats or reaction, he strode to the door, arm outstretched to grasp the door handle, and froze.

It took Donny a few seconds and a few blinks to fully register what he was looking at as he stared at his outstretched hand. How had he not notice this before? This was……impossible! He flexed and wiggled the fingers to check it really was the hand that was attached to his body, under his control. 

“What the….?” He murmured in wonderment as he twisted the hand back and forth. It was a human hand. Four fingers, one thumb, fleshy peach in colour. Painted nails? He reached up his other hand to automatically adjust the glasses on his head only to conclude that he wasn’t wearing any. As he stared at his outstretched hand, his impossible hand, he also started registering what the other hand was feeling on his face. His face felt….too small, too angular. The bone structure was different, the nose small and pointed, and was this…. _hair?_ Did he have _hair??_

“What the…?!!” He muttered as he dashed to the bathroom to look in the mirror, stumbling over his own feet in his haste. He skid to a stop in front of the sink and stared, agog, at the unfamiliar reflection looking back at him. It was a human face, eyes round saucers as they stared back at him in shock. Donny opened and closed his mouth like a fish, too stunned for speech. He gripped the edge of the sink and leaned forwards for a closer look, twisting his head slowly from side to side. He was human! Brown eyes, framed in long dark lashes, open wide in shock and amazement. Full, dusky-pink lips, hanging slightly open in an O of surprise. High cheekbones and shoulder-long brown hair, slightly dishevelled from sleep. As his overworked mind tried to take in what he was seeing, his eyes travelled down his reflection and rested on – breasts. Clear as day, under a thin strappy top and narrow shoulders, were a pair of small perky breasts, nipples poking up under the fabric.

Donny let out a loud squawk and swallowed heavily. He was human.

And he was… a GIRL?!

As his whirling mind got to grips with registering his impossible reflection, Donny slowly took in other aspects of the room which he had discarded before in his haste to assess danger: The bikini draped over the shower rail to dry; the feminine clothes in the wardrobe, the massive assortment of creams and shampoos on the side of the bath and sink. Donny’s eyes flicked down to his hands, taking in the painted nails, and back up again to his reflection. To be sure, he lifted his hands and, after a couple of jerky hesitations, pressed them against his chest to confirm what he was seeing. Upon feeling the soft mounds against his palms, Donny slowly puffed out the breath he had been holding and squeezed his eyes tight shut.

He was going to  _ MURDER _ Michelangelo!!!!!!!


	2. Chapter 2

POPPY

I take a sip of my ice-cold cocktail and rest my head back against the inflated pillow of my lilo. This is the life. This is what the doctor ordered. I am nearing the end of a few weeks away in Europe with the girls. We've had a brief but busy tour of the main tourist attractions around the popular hot spot cities such as Prague, Venice and Amsterdam. We've had fun going on the guided walks and poking around the back alley boutiques and local markets.

We are spending our last week at a beach resort in Spain. Soaking up some much needed sun, sea and alcohol in a classic hotel complex. We've been here almost the whole week now, long enough to let the relaxation set in and the tans start to develop on our bikini-clad bodies. Well, the other's tans mostly. I tend to go direct from white to red and then have to wait for the burning to subside before anything resembling a golden hue graces my limbs. This results in holiday photos of blinding paleness for the first half of the week, flaming red in the second half, and a delightful bronze the week after when I'm back at work and covered up from the constant drizzle so no-one can see the holiday glow anyway. For this reason I’ve spent most of my time relaxing in the relative coolness on any shade I can find.

I turn my head to look over at my friends who are floating next to me atop their own lilos in the hotel pool. Kerry raises her cocktail glass at me and pointedly flicks her eyes toward one of the waiters delivering nibbles to a poolside table. I giggle and roll my eyes. Classic girls holiday: Sun, sea, alcohol, and ogling the fit blokes from behind dark sunglasses. Especially for my more forward and flirtatious friends.

Taking another sip from my drink, I ignore the blended ice which has spilled from the rim and splashed onto my collar bone. The cold is a lovely relief from this blazing sun.

"I'm going to sit in the shade for a bit," I call to my friends. They grunt their acknowledgement but barely look up from their respective kindles, mobiles and waiter-watching. They are more sun tolerant than I am. I am the quintessential Brit: complaining about the constant chill, cloud and drizzle, yet am unable to tolerate the sun when it does come out.

I balance my drink and hand-paddle my way back to shallow water where I disembark, not particularly gracefully, with one hand still holding my glass and the other trying to hold the bobbing lilo in place between my thighs. I establish a dubious foothold, knees as wide as a cowboy with rickets and heft myself up. I eventually manage a reasonable dismount, my left foot dancing side to side as I swing my right leg awkwardly over the lilo. The shifting weight puts more pressure on my hand and sends the inflatable pinging backwards so suddenly I lurch forwards to regain my balance and half walk, half bounce out of the water on one leg.

Flicking my damp hair over my shoulder I make a beeline to my sun lounger and quickly take shelter under the enormous parasol. Yeah, I'm sure no-one saw that. Ahem.

I fish my mobile phone out of my bag and check the usual pages for activity. Looks like I haven't missed much while I've been away. I have the usual likes and comments from our posted holiday snaps:

" _Looks like you're having a good time, Poppy! I'm glad you're finally out of the house and getting some fresh air!"_

_"See you when you get back, don't get too crazy!"_

_"Crazy? I DARE Poppy to do something crazy while she's away. You only live once mate!"_

_"LOL! I'll give Poppy fifty quid if she does something crazy on that hol. And I'm not talking dressing yourself up like a lady for once or drinking a flaming sambuca or any tame shit like that!"_

The usual banter from my group of guy friends back home.

I return my phone and settle back onto the lounger to reflect on my European city experiences. It's true, I'm not one for crazy endeavours. I have my small group of friends, mostly guys. I work as an office temp to pay the bills and belong a skate fitness group I affectionately refer to as ‘Board Games’. That's about it really. I don't do very much in my day to day life. My family tease me about still living like a student. I go out when I have to, (pretty much only get out of bed when I have to), and otherwise spend my time watching super-hero movies or playing video games with the guys. I'm here on this trip with a group of girl work friends who had organised it ages ago. One of the long standing members upped and left the firm. She must have had some falling out with somebody because she backed out of the trip also. I'd not been there long but was getting friendly with the group so they invited me along. My first instinct was to decline but a swift verbal berating from my guy friends outside of work convinced me to go. Something about getting out of the house, stop being such a nerd and hang with the girls for a change. It might make me learn to be more attractive to the average bloke. Thanks guys. You can always rely on male friends to just tell you straight.

So here I am. Getting my bronze glow and flashing my sun starved belly to the world. I admit it was fun to go sightseeing around famous landmarks. Not something I would probably repeat, as there is only so much wow factor to be gained from looking at a church. Or a cathedral. Or a building with a pointy roof. You've seen one Gothic pointy building, the wow factor diminishes after about the fourth or fifth. The guided tours were interesting, mind. We gained some history and local stories, and it was certainly interesting to poke about the lesser visited bric-a-brac stores for souvenirs.

The rest of my evening passes enjoyably. We spend a few pleasant hours in the bar watching Kerry get lairy with the bartenders after a few too many shots. I'm quite content to sit and observe.

Fast forward to the early hours and I'm more than ready for bed. I'm back in my room, thankfully alone. (Single occupancy room – score!). I do like having a laugh with the girls but I definitely need time to myself to recharge. I yawn my way through a hurried night-time routine of washing the sun cream off my face and stripping down to my strappy pyjama top and I fall into the freshly laundered sheets.

I sleep like the dead. I have strange dreams which I can't recall as I float towards the surface of consciousness. I don't know how much I had to drink last night because I can hear this faint rushing in my ears which isn't going away. I teeter on the brink of being fully awake when a loud rumble of thunder jolts my eyes open. Holy shit, what was _that?_ I blink a few times, my eyesight blurry as I try to focus on the hotel room ceiling. Hell, this must be a terrible hangover as all I can see are blurred shapes. The walls seem much closer than they were before. I turn my head to the left towards the floor to ceiling window. It's too dark to be morning. I can't see any sun streaming through the cracks in the curtains. I fumble for the bedside lamp but there's nothing there. I rub my eyes in the hope of regaining my focus and the thunderous rumble comes again.

Increasingly freaked out at not being able to get my bearings, plus my vision being persistently blurry, I swing my legs from beneath the covers. I’m sure I must be high on something as it feels like my feet have been resting as high as my head, my body curved as if I were in a hammock. I tumble out onto the hard floor. For god's sake, what is going on? There is an unexpected weight on my back and it unbalances me. The rushing sound is still there and I realise it's not in my own head, but the sound of actual rushing water coming from close by. Did I leave the shower on? I reach back gingerly for the bed I just exited and sit, rubbing my eyes in frustration at my hampered sight. Did somebody slip something in my drink last night? I shiver at the thought.

The deep rumbling sounds again, and I hunker back in my little curved cubby hole. The sounds of heaving shifting come from above, followed by a grunt and an unmistakable loud, rolling fart. I freeze and snap to full clarity. I am not in my room any more. I don't know where I am and there are other people here. And I can't sodding well see anything apart from flashes of green when I move!!! I remain still and silent as a statue trying to take in any clue as to what is happening and where I am. A sleepy chuckle floats down from above.

"Nice one Raph, we could have used that deadly weaponry when we were fighting the gang last night. They would have lost the will to live and just lay down and died, dude."

I remain in my hunkered position, clutching my sheets, when lights flicker on overhead. Not that I can see much with my impaired sight, but the space outside of my cubby appears huge, extending outward and upward like a massive warehouse.

Either I'm dreaming, have been drugged, or have been kidnapped. Or perhaps all three. Either way, I don't have a good feeling about any of this.


End file.
